Kang Doyeon stood at his window for a long time.
Friday.
June 14.
A day he'd never seen before.
The sun was higher than usual. Different angle. Different shadows. Different ajumma walking her dog—a fluffy white thing instead of the brown one from yesterday. From every yesterday.
He should feel relieved.
He didn't.
---
He went to work.
Gangnam was the same chaos it always was—taxis honking, executives power-walking, the smell of exhaust and expensive coffee. Doyeon walked into his firm's sleek glass building, took the elevator to the fourteenth floor, and sat at his desk.
His coworkers greeted him. Normal greetings. Nothing strange.
"Rough night?" His desk neighbor, Park Sunho, eyed him curiously. "You look like you haven't slept."
"Something like that."
"Client presentation at eleven. You ready?"
Doyeon blinked. Client presentation. He'd completely forgotten.
Right. Normal life. Responsibilities. Things that mattered before a girl with crescent moon earrings crashed into him.
"I'm ready," he lied.
---
He wasn't ready.
The presentation was fine. The client nodded along. Sunho shot him thumbs-up from the corner.
But Doyeon's mind wasn't on blueprints or building codes.
It was on her.
Was she at work right now? Was she running late? Had she spilled coffee on anyone today? Did she sit by the Hangang River at sunset, whispering to no one?
Stop it, he told himself. She doesn't know you. She never knew you. Let it go.
---
He didn't go to Hangang.
He went home instead. Made ramyeon. Watched TV. Pretended to care.
His phone sat on the coffee table, dark and silent.
He still had her number saved. Jiwon 💫
He could text her. He knew her number by heart now. He could send a message. Say something casual. Hey, weird question—did you spill coffee on anyone at Hongik Station last week?
But she'd think he was crazy. Or a stalker. Or both.
He didn't text.
---
He went to Moment Café.
Not because he wanted to see her. Definitely not.
He just wanted good coffee.
The barista—same tired woman—recognized him. "Back again? You really are a regular now."
"Just passing through."
"Uh huh." She didn't believe him. "She hasn't been in yet today."
Doyeon's face heated. "I didn't ask."
"You didn't have to." She slid his Americano across the counter. "She usually comes around now. It's past her time."
"I'm not waiting for her."
"Of course not."
He sat by the window anyway.
The door opened.
Jiwon walked in.
Gray cardigan. Different earrings—tiny stars today. Hair in a neat ponytail. She looked calm, collected, nothing like the running girl from the station.
She ordered her Americano. Extra shot. The barista smiled at her like they were old friends.
Then Jiwon turned.
And saw him.
Their eyes met.
Doyeon's heart stopped.
She looked at him for exactly one second. Blank. Unrecognizing.
Then she looked away.
Took her coffee.
Walked out.
Didn't look back.
---
Doyeon sat frozen.
She didn't remember.
Of course she didn't remember. Why would she? To her, they'd never met. Never shared coffee. Never had a conversation.
He was a stranger.
Just another face in a city of ten million.
He should let her go.
He should absolutely let her go.
He stood up. Walked out of the café. Followed the direction she'd gone.
---
He caught up to her at Hongik Station.
She was waiting for the train. Same platform.
This time, she wasn't running.
She was standing still, sipping her coffee, scrolling through her phone.
Doyeon stood ten feet away. Watching. Heart pounding.
The train arrived. Doors opened. She stepped on.
He stepped on too.
---
They sat three seats apart.
She didn't notice him. Why would she? He was just another commuter. Dark hair. Dark coat. Ordinary face.
The train rattled through tunnels. Passengers got on and off. Jiwon kept her eyes on her phone, occasionally glancing up at the station announcements.
Doyeon watched her reflection in the window.
This is insane, he thought. You're following her. This is how people get restraining orders.
But he couldn't stop.
The train reached her stop. She stood. Exited.
He followed.
---
She worked at a small publishing house in Hongdae.
Three stories tall. Old brick. A sign that read "Moonlit Books" in elegant hangul. She walked inside, greeted the receptionist, disappeared up the stairs.
Doyeon stood across the street. Staring.
What are you doing?
He didn't know.
He went home.
---
He went to Moment Café again.
She came. Ordered. Didn't look at him.
He followed her to the station. To work. Home again.
Stalker behavior. He knew it. He didn't care.
---
She noticed him.
Not recognition. Just... awareness. The way you notice someone who's always around.
Their eyes met for a moment. She frowned slightly. Looked away.
Doyeon's heart cracked.
---
She wasn't at the café.
He waited. Nothing.
Panic bloomed in his chest.
He went to the station. Not there. Went to her work. Not there.
He stood on the sidewalk, useless and terrified.
She's sick. She's on vacation. She quit. She moved. She—
His phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
He answered.
"Hello?"
"Kang Doyeon-ssi?"
Her voice.
His knees went weak.
"This is Yoon Jiwon. You don't know me, but—"
"I know you."
Silence.
"What?"
"I know you." He squeezed his eyes shut. "You work at Moonlit Books. You feed stray cats near Hongik Park. You sit by the Hangang River when you're sad. You have a scar above your left eyebrow. You—"
"How do you know my name?"
He stopped. Opened his eyes.
"I... found your wallet," he lied. "At the café. I was going to return it."
More silence.
"I don't lose my wallet."
"Everyone loses things sometimes."
"I'm looking at my wallet right now. It's on my desk."
Doyeon closed his eyes.
Stupid. So stupid.
"Who are you?" Her voice was careful now. Scared. "Why have you been following me?"
He could deny it. Lie again. Run.
But something in him broke.
"Because I can't stop thinking about you."
Silence.
"What?"
"The first time I saw you, you were running. Late for your train. Your cardigan was flying behind you like wings. You spilled coffee on me. You wrote your number on my hand. And then you disappeared."
"That was weeks ago."
"I know."
"And you've been following me ever since?"
"No." He paused. "Yes. I don't know. I tried to forget you. I couldn't. I came back to the station. You weren't there. I came to the café. You didn't notice me. I—" He stopped. Took a breath. "I know this makes me sound crazy."
"It does."
"I know."
Another silence.
"Why should I believe anything you say?"
Doyeon thought about it. About all the reasons she shouldn't. About how he'd sound if their positions were reversed.
"You shouldn't," he admitted. "I wouldn't believe me either."
"Then why are you telling me this?"
"Because I'm tired of watching you from a distance." His voice was quiet. Raw. "I'm tired of being a stranger to someone who feels like home."
The line was silent for so long he thought she'd hung up.
Then: "Meet me at Hangang. Sunset."
The line went dead.
---
He was there an hour early.
Sat on the bench. Watched the river. Waited.
The sun was painting the sky orange and pink when she arrived.
She didn't sit. Just stood in front of him, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"You've been coming to the café for weeks."
"Yes."
"Following me."
"Yes."
"Do you know how creepy that is?"
"Yes."
"Then why?"
Doyeon looked up at her. At the sunset catching her hair. At the tiny scar above her eyebrow. At the wariness in her eyes that broke his heart because he'd put it there.
"Because when I saw you that first day," he said slowly, carefully, "something in me woke up. Something I didn't know was sleeping. And I've been trying to go back to sleep ever since. I can't."
She stared at him.
"That's the most romantic and most terrifying thing anyone has ever said to me."
"Sorry."
"Don't apologize." She sat. Finally. On the far end of the bench. Still keeping distance. "Tell me something. Something true."
He thought about it. About all the things he could say.
"The truest thing?" He looked at the river. "I don't know why I'm like this. I don't know why I can't let you go. I only know that I've tried. God, I've tried. And every time I think I've moved on, I see you in a crowd or hear someone laugh like you or catch the smell of jasmine somewhere... and I'm right back where I started."
She was quiet.
"You don't even know me," she said finally.
"I know you feed stray cats."
"That's not knowing someone."
"I know you whisper to yourself when you think no one's listening."
Her breath caught.
"I know you're scared of settling. I know you have a scar above your eyebrow from when you were twelve. I know you love lavender and hate roses. I know—"
"How do you know these things?"
Doyeon hesitated. "I notice things. I notice you."
She looked at him for a long time. Searching.
Then she said: "I don't trust you."
"I know."
"I don't like that you've been following me."
"I know."
"I should call the police."
"You probably should."
"I'm not going to."
Doyeon's heart stuttered. "Why not?"
She looked away. At the river. At the sunset. At anything but him.
"Because you looked at me that first day at the café," she said quietly, "like I was someone worth knowing. And I've been thinking about that look ever since."
---
They sat in silence as the sun disappeared.
When the last light faded, she stood.
"This doesn't mean anything," she said. "I'm not saying yes to anything. I'm not promising anything."
"I know."
"But if you want to talk... talk. If you want coffee... have coffee." She looked down at him. "No more following. If you want to see me, you say hello. Like a normal person."
Doyeon almost laughed. "I don't think I qualify as normal."
"Then pretend." She started walking away. Stopped. Turned back.
"Doyeon-ssi?"
"Yes?"
She hesitated. Then: "I don't remember you. But something about you... feels familiar. Like I should know you."
His throat tightened. "Maybe someday you will."
She looked at him for another long moment.
Then she walked away.
Left him on the bench.
Alone in the dark.
But for the first time, Doyeon smiled.
Because she hadn't said no.
She'd said try.
And he had many days left to do exactly that.